o a name scrawled on the margin.

Titian took it in his hands, holding it gently, and turning it so that
the light fell on the rich binding. "A treasure!" he said
enthusiastically.

The young man nodded. "An Aldine--I saw that. What does the marking
mean?" He asked the question almost rudely.

His companion turned the leaves. "It's a bacchanal for the Duke," he
said slowly.... "I've been looking up Violante's pose.--Here it is." He
read the lines in a musical voice.

A heavy frown had come between the handsome eyes watching him. "You'll
not paint her like that?"

"I rather think I shall," responded Titian slowly. "She has promised."

"And Giorgione?"

"Giorgione lets her do as she likes. He trusts her--as I do." He laid
his hand again on the shoulder near him. "I tell you, man, you're wrong.
Believe in her and--leave her," he said significantly.

The shoulder shrugged itself slightly away. The young man picked up his
hat from the table near by. He raised it courteously before he dropped
it with a little laugh on the dark curls.

"I go to an appointment," he said.

III

A face looked over the balcony railing as the gondola halted at the foot
of the steps. It smiled with a look of satisfaction, and the owner,
reaching for a rose at her belt, dropped it with a quick touch over the
balcony edge.

It fell at the feet of the young man stepping from the gondola, and
caused him to bend with a deep flush. It touched his lips lightly as he
raised himself and lifted his velvet cap to the face above.

She smiled mockingly. "You are late," she said--"two minutes late!"

"I come!" he replied, springing up the steps. In another minute he was
beside her, smiling and flushed, looking down at her with deep, intent
gaze.

She made a place for him on the divan. "Sit down," she said.

He seated himself humbly, his eyes studying hers.

She smiled lazily and unfurled her fan, covering her face except the
eyes. They regarded him over the fringe of feathers.

"Where have you been?" she demanded.

"With Titian."

"Giorgione wanted you. He did scold so--!" She laughed musically.

Zarato nodded. "I go to him to-morrow."

"Has Titian finished?"

"For the present--He will lay it away."

"I know," she laughed, "--to mellow!... How did you like it?"

He hesitated a second. "It was a little rough," he confessed.

"Always!" The laugh rippled sweetly. "Like a log of wood--or a heap of
stones--or a large loaf of b